


down, gently

by MTlesbian



Series: your sweater just fits me so well [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Trans Character, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Mollymauk Tealeaf, Oral Sex, Other, Praise Kink, Safeword Use, Trans Caleb Widogast, Trans Male Character, she/her mollymauk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 05:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTlesbian/pseuds/MTlesbian
Summary: Caleb gets stressed out during the holidays. Molly helps him feel better, helps him into a more pleasant headspace.





	down, gently

**Author's Note:**

> a few quick notes:
> 
> 1\. theres a bit of a scene cut, towards the beginning, between caleb being very upset and the beginning of his and molly's scene. there is a lot of unwritten - but implied - discussion about the scene between these two moments. consent is important as well as ensuring your partner's overall emotional wellness before starting
> 
> 2\. molly uses she/her pronouns here! this is a personal preference of mine that will be present in all works in this series (and likely all things with molly i write on here)

Caleb's eyes follow the slow circular path of the pink blade of Molly's rainbow ceiling fan. It's almost hypnotic, combining with the scent of burning lavender incense in the air to leave him in something like a trance. He sighs under the weight of it, curses to himself as the acknowledgement of his current states reminds him of where he was five minutes ago, panicked, crying, pathetic.

The firm pressure of Molly's hand on his shoulder pulls him back into himself. "Shush," she says. "Relax, love. Stay with me. Now, in -"

He breathes with her, then, her other hand coming up to cup his face and scratch short, well-manicured fingernails against his somewhat patchy facial hair. He clings to that forearm with both shaky hands, clenching his jaw as anxiety coils in his gut like thread - so easy to tie into knots, so difficult to undo.

"Oh, baby," she coos, her brow furrowing. "None of that, no. Just let it out, okay?" As she speaks, she maneuvers the hand on his shoulder under him, pulling him into her lap so that his head rests against her neck. He's able to unclench his jaw, but the position feels just as stressful on his teeth, his lower jaw quivering with the effort

He's had a rough few weeks, in all honesty. The stress of exams, the stress of the holidays, the world, his future, all of it crashed down around him, onto his chest with enough force to crush his hollow torso completely. He's been choking on the dust leftover from that for the past four days. Yesterday, he'd finally caved to pressure from Beau and Nott - both out of town and "home" for the holidays - to talk to the only other member of their little group still in town. It helped, as he had quickly learned, that Molly's also his girlfriend ("or partner, I suppose," she had said all those months back, "I don't particularly mind").

She knows ways to help him, to calm him down, to relax him, and he has, since they first met, submitted happily to her gentle, caring touch.

He find himself slipping into that soft, heady space as Molly pulls him impossibly closer into her lap, one of her arms tucked underneath him and the other gently stroking his cheek.

"I am sorry," he barely chokes out, "for putting you through this."

"Nonsense," Molly says with a laugh in her lilting voice. She presses a kiss to his hair, around his temple. "I care deeply for you, dear. Taking care of you is no issue."

 

-

 

Molly's voice is almost as soothing as her hands rubbing against his bare shoulders. "Remember, love. Green is for 'go on, I'm good,' Yellow means 'slow down-'"

"And Red means 'stop.' I am aware, Molly. We have done this before."

She frowns. "I know, dear. I'm just making sure, wanna keep you safe and all that." She ruffles his hair.

He closes the distance between them, kissing Molly and laying the weight of his torso on hers. "Yes, ma'am."

Her face softens then splits into a knowing, excited grin. "Wonderful." She tosses a pillow from the bed, and the familiar sound of it thumping against her carpeted floor is enough to stir the heat in his gut. "Knees, dear."

Caleb slowly crawls down from the bed, a combination of Molly's pressing gaze and a desire to be submissive, to be good, keeping him from standing up at any point during the process. The sheer arousal he gets from soft submission is only compounded when he looks from himself - naked, sweaty but shivering, wetness dripping down his thighs - to Molly - obviously aroused as well, but more able to hide it, composed, clothed.

He hears Molly giggle, almost, as he settles his weight on the floor, knees pressing into the fluffy pillow. She hops, ever graceful, from the bed and moves to stand in front of him. One of her hands begins to thread through his hair, and he turns his face up to look at her, already slipping down, down into the hazy and warm. It's likely obvious how much self control he's using to not just pitch forward into her, or to grovel, face pressing into the floor, at her feet.

"Good boy," she says, smiling as the words send a warm shudder down his spine. "Such a good boy for me."

He something like melts against her, body turned to molasses as her hands press his head and neck against her thigh. "Shh, shh, that's alright. I got you."

Caleb shudders. It's arguably formulaic, the way scenes begin with them, but he has yet to tire of it, tire of Molly's gentle, practiced ministrations. She leans down, only slightly, to take his face in her hands. The adoration in her eyes as he looks up at her face is like the firm press of a hand on his back, sending him spiraling further down, down into her gentle control. One of her thumbs strokes, slow, pulling at the skin, across his lower lip, and he opens his mouth to take it in, reveling in the pressure against his tongue.

"Oh good, good boy," she whispers, and Caleb can hear the arousal in her voice. She slides the thumb from his mouth, replacing it with two fingers. As she gently thrusts them, wets them in his mouth, her other hand moves behind his head to gently cradle it, to hold him in place. He lets his eyes slide shut, breathes in the feeling of being hers, already much more relaxed than he was before they started.

He knows that Molly can tell when her fingers slide out of his mouth and don't come back. "Stunning," she says, and the smile in her voice is enough to drag him out of his stupor, enough to have him looking up at her face. His chest tightens marginally at the sheer joy he finds there, and then everything melts again when she says "Are you still coherent enough down there to eat me out?"

She doesn't need to ask twice; he's already pulling her pants down by the time she's finished asking. She laughs, and so does he, and the moment sits warm in his heart different from arousal, if only somewhat.

"Love you," he whispers like it's a betrayal to the characters they've established in this space, kissing the newly revealed skin of her inner thigh.

"Love you too," she coos.

Molly is a picture before Caleb, her capris and panties pooling around her ankles, her clit prettily at attention. He dives in with a fervor, taking half of it into his mouth in one fluid motion. She gasps, and pride swells in his chest. "Oh, Caleb!" Her hands grasp at his hair and tug with enough force to send his head spinning. Even though she's lost all dominant air about her to her shuddery moans, Caleb still feels taken care of in the way her hands clasp at his hair, the way she still praises him - "Good - oh, god - good boy" - and the way that he sits on his knees. Her gasps and moans fill his ears, and he's lost all sense other than being good - being good for Molly.

"I'm close, baby - "

He doubles down, of course he does - anything for her. Anything to please her.

Caleb ensures to keep his mouth fully sealed around Molly's clit as she comes, swallowing her come as it hits the back of his throat. She lets out a long sigh as she pushes him, gently, off of her twitching clit, straightening her posture from where she'd been hunched over him.

"Oh, Caleb," she murmurs, petting his hair, "what did I do to deserve you?"

'Everything,' he wants to say, but her fingernails scratching gently against the nape of his neck are sending him back down into subspace quickly.

"You must be so wet for me, love. Do you want me to take care of you?"

He nods. She grins.

Getting him back up onto the bed is something of a chore - neither of them are particularly strong to begin with, and Caleb's kneeling position and Molly's orgasm had left them both with shaky legs - but they manage it. By the time Molly has made a small pile of pillows to lean against while she keeps him on her lap, Caleb has simultaneously lost the edge of his arousal and fallen even deeper into subspace, spurred on by Molly's methodical motions and the way she gently rearranged his limbs until she was happy with him.

"Oh, wait," she says once they're both settled. "Did you want me to suck your dick?"

"No, ah, I do not - my body - I - "

"No, no, love," she coos, shushing him, "I understand. Works out even - we don't have to rearrange anymore. Fingers still okay?"

"Ja, that sounds good."

"Excellent." She begins to trace her fingers down his sides. He flinches, giggling under his breath as she hits a few of his more ticklish spots. When her fingers grace over his hip bones, she pulls away, bringing her hands back up under his armpits. She squeezes him, pressing firm against his sides with her palms as she drags her hands back down.

The pressure feels amazing, grounding him and increasing his anticipation for what's to come. As she reaches his hip bones once more, she crests over them, squeezing his inner thighs and forcing them farther apart.

"Look at you!" she coos. "God, you are just gorgeous." Her lips press against his hair then move slowly lower, kissing first against his ear, then jaw, then throat as one of her hands cups over his pubic mound.

"Ah, god - Oh my god!" He tries to buck up into her touch, but fails as her other hand moves from his thigh to press into his stomach.

"Shh, shh, baby. Just let it happen, just let me take care of you." She spreads his lips, taking his dick between her thumb and middle finger, her forefinger pressing into the head. She begins to slowly, teasingly jerk him off.

He can feel his heartbeat in his dick in time with her motions, each beat sending a pulse of pleasure through his body. He writhes in Molly's careful grip, shuddering and moaning embarrassingly loudly as his stomach ties himself in knots.

"A-ah! I am close, Mol - ma'am - Molly!"

"I know, I know, baby. I got you."

It feels vaguely dishonest of her to say such a thing when she pulls away from his dick, moving both hands to press against his stomach as he squirms in her grasp. "Shh, shh, I know. Trust me, okay?"

He acquiesces, melting in her arms as her hands rub small circles into his stomach. "Good boy," she whispers like mantra as his breathing evens out, "good, good boy."

One of her hands moves back between his lips, easily dipping two fingers into his dripping hole. He whines, needy, as she spreads them, wrinkling his nose as he feels threads of slick stretch and snap against his hole and inner thighs.

"So wet for me," Molly coos so quiet Caleb can barely hear her over his heartbeat in his ears.

Her fingers delve deeper inside of him, thrusting down to the second knuckle before pulling back out. After a moment of this, her other hand moves back to his dick, taking up a similar position to before as she resumes jerking him off.

"Part of me wants to tease you a bit more, but I can tell that you need it. Go ahead and come for me, whenever you-"

He interrupts her with an uncharacteristically loud groan as he comes. Her gentle coos of "Good boy" and "You're so amazing, Caleb" are little more than background whirring as he is overwhelmed by a flood of sensation. The heat in his stomach releases all at once, simultaneously expected and surprising, overwhelming and exactly what he needs. Molly helps him through it, slipping her fingers out of his hole and focusing attention on his twitching dick.

Caleb realizes, as the aftershocks fade, almost belatedly, that Molly is showing no signs of slowing down. She pulls multiple orgasms out of him often, and he likes it, but, tonight -

"Molly - "

"Baby, I - "

"Molly, Red, I - "

The reaction is so instantaneous Caleb nearly gets whiplash. Molly pulls away and immediately begins shifting him so that they can look each other in the eye. "Are you alright?"

"Ja, Molly," the warmth in his stomach shifts up to his chest as his heart surges with affection, "I, I just - I am sorry, I am still a bit, ah, in subspace. Hold on."

"That's alright, take your time. Want me to get a washcloth to clean you up?"

"Ja. That would be, ah, very nice."

One of Molly's hands strokes gently from his cheek down his shoulder. "You sure you'll be alright while I'm gone?"

Caleb feels his face melt into a smile. "Ja. Of course."

Molly gives him one last pat on the shoulder before she leaves the room. Caleb lets himself fall backward and bounce slightly against Molly's bed. He takes deep breaths, eyes once again latching onto the pink ceiling fan blade and collecting himself in the few moments Molly's gone. He hears the faucet turn on, then quickly off, and Molly is back within seconds.

"There we are," she says, voiced laced with awe. Finally more aware of himself, Caleb blushes at the obvious affection as Molly begins to take the cool washcloth and wipe between his legs. He twitches at the contact, oversensitive, and Molly coos at him.

"How are you holding up?" she asks as she finishes with him, moving to wipe herself off with the clean side of the cloth.

"I am, ah, more aware, ja? Sorry for, ah, scaring you. I just knew I couldn't come more than once tonight."

"That's quite alright, love." Molly sets the washcloth on her dresser, taking off her shirt and moving to sit beside Caleb on the bed. "And don't ever apologize for using your safeword. Even if - " she puts up a finger, knowing he's about to protest " - you think it might be overkill, or something. If you want the scene to be over, or different, call it. Alright?"

Caleb closes his eyes, lets out his breath, and nods.

"Good. How are you feeling about, uh, other stuff?"

Caleb thinks about the other stressors in his life, and feels a twinge in his gut. But there's no impulse to clench his jaw, no tidal wave of spiraling, apocalyptic thoughts.

"I am, ah, still anxious." Molly gives a sympathetic pat to his thigh. "But I think that is not the kind of thing a little bit of affection can fix, ja?" He threads his own fingers with hers, looks up into her eyes. "But it helped. You, love, helped. I feel better."

"That's good. Want to sleep?"

"Oh, absolutely."

And they spend the next few minutes getting Caleb's exhausted body up to the head of the bed and under the covers, but they both know it's worth it when they end up a tangled pile of limbs, warmth, and adoration.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this is my first time writing something like this so im more than happy for suggestions and contstructive criticism. i am aware that this isnt super in character in terms of canon, but a. you gotta assume that a relationship between caleb and molly like this would require a lot of...development. yeah b. this is super self-indulgent so its not like. a big deal, yeah?
> 
> i also would be happy to take suggestions for ideas for future installments! i have a few....so we'll see


End file.
